The Gift of Mother's Day

The thing about Mother's Day is that it's impossible for it to be perfect if you think the day will be all about you. Because it never is. Nor should it be. 

It may be a day where your family tries to spoil you by making your bed or buying gifts or taking you to brunch. But, they still bicker with one another and leave their things on the floor and forget to close doors. They do not cease being children for a day. Nor should they.

Its preciousness is in the simple tokens of love given and watching their anxious faces as you receive. 

This one was made by Toots, my Kindergartener. I look at it and see the green dress, not because I have one, but because he knows it's my favorite color. I laugh at the one that says I like to drive around and look at houses because we've done a lot of that this year. And I smile that he thinks my cookies are good. 

This one was made by Mister Luke. I love it because I am a word lover and these are my eldest son's words about me.

I'm glad he thinks I'm cool and hilarious and kind and athletic. 

And that he thinks I'm human.

And then a white picket fence with flowers. 

A gift made with love and care by Jackie Boy. 

How blessed am I.

Their faces as they gave were the real gift though. 

The look to see my reaction, my receiving of their gift.

My acceptance of their appreciation. 

How blessed am I.